Night at the Museum
by TVFanoftheYear
Summary: "Amazing how such an innocuous place can leave such a deep impression." The gang is in D.C. for the opening of an exhibit dedicated to their work, but it's one of the museum's permanent installments that has all their attention.
1. Questions

Recently made a trip to our nation's capital and the National Postal Museum. To say it was inspiring would be an understatement. Please enjoy this first of two chapters!

* * *

"What made you want to work for the United States Postal Service?"

It was a complicated and deeply personal question, but one for which Oliver knew he had at least a short-form answer.

"I believe that sending a letter out into the world is an act of faith. Someone is relying on the contents of every letter we receive to make it to its final destination. By some small miracle they end up in our hands. We are the stewards of that kind of faith, and it's up to us to see it fulfilled," Oliver explained. "I think we all agree that it's a sacred trust we all take very seriously, and I know for me it's what I get up in the morning feeling called to do."

Oliver, Shane, Rita and Norman were in Washington, D.C. for a ribbon cutting ceremony. The Smithsonian National Postal Museum was opening a limited-time exhibit called "Technology and Tradition," which celebrated the marriage of traditional methods of dead letter revival and delivery with the support of current technology.

According to Becky Starkwell, Shane's dear friend who had invited their participation, the museum had been in the discussion and planning phases for upcoming exhibitions, and some gentle coaxing on her part had secured this exhibit as proof of her "special project" to "develop increased reliance on the work of the post office."

The Postables had been interviewed about their work and the letters they had delivered, all of which had gone towards developing the exhibition and its contents over the past year. Part of the promotion of the exhibit included an open question and answer forum for the public prior to opening with the exhibits' primary subjects. They were nearly done with this portion of the festivities.

Another audience member took to the microphone.

"Ms. McInerney, I read in the program that you actually started here in D.C. as a technical systems consultant before you headed out to Denver, and that once there you actually changed jobs in a way. Can you reflect on that? Was it a good move for you?"

Shane fumbled a second to find the "On" button for her microphone, but then rose from her stool to address the audience member. They were seated in stools on the stage. Shane looked out into the medium-sized auditorium to address the crowd.

"It is true, when I was transferred to Denver I was actually supposed to be joining the Direct Line Operations team. But as fate would have it, I ended up with the Dead Letter team, and to be honest I have never looked back. I think of what I do now as technical assistance of another kind, and it has been an experience beyond what I could have possibly imagined. I love it," She concluded, taking her seat once more.

"We can take two more questions before we conclude the panel," Becky, who was moderating, interjected.

Another audience member made their way to the microphone.

"What's the most difficult letter you've tried to deliver, either in terms of content or the methods you had to employ?"

The four of them looked to each other. To the audience, it would have appeared as if they weren't sure what to answer or who should go first. To Shane, Oliver, Rita and Norman, the looks were one of a shared answer, but one that would stay within their family.

Becky took the initiative on their behalf.

"Norman, why don't we start with you and make our way back towards Oliver," she suggested.

That was the point at which Shane tuned out for a second. She didn't hear Norman's answer because she knew the letter that was most difficult for her—for all of them- was the one they really couldn't talk about. Her eyes drifted towards Oliver, who, to her surprise, was looking at her, too. They had obviously had the same thought, or, at the very least, he could read the distress at close range. They were seated directly next to each other after all.

Oliver's letter to his wife was the most complicated and trying letter she had ever delivered. The outcome was that it had actually brought all of them closer, but particularly Oliver and Shane. The final wall had finally come crumbling down and the obstacles keeping them apart finally removed.

This was Oliver's first time in Washington, D.C. since his wife left, and Shane felt as though her courtship with Oliver depended upon knowing and understanding what happened there. Shane couldn't help but feel as though there was a ghost hanging over her from the minute she stepped off the plane at Reagan National Airport. It was a ghost she had to face, and it was calling her to the Pony Express Exhibit at the National Postal Museum. She still hadn't been to visit the museum, but she, Rita, Oliver and Norman had all promised to tour it for the first time with the new exhibit as a group.

The longer Shane spent in town, however, the more tempted by the few minutes walk she became, and the stronger her desire to see that place where so many lives had changed, whether in the moment itself or as a lingering consequence. She needed to make peace with it somehow.

"Shane, what about for you?" Becky's voice cut through her thoughts.

Shane cleared her throat, turned her mic back on and began her answer.

"There was a letter a while back that we were actually delivering 10 years after it was written. We came to find out that the letter writer had actually died, but had something that her husband and daughter really needed to know. It was pretty emotional for all of us. I think the newspaper clip from that delivery is included in the exhibit," Shane concluded, grateful that despite the scattered nature of her thoughts that she was able to formulate a coherent response.

"It was also the case that earned these four the highest honor in the United States Postal system, the Dark of Night award," Becky shared with the audience. "We'll take the last question."

"I have always been a sucker for a really good romance. So I am just wondering if any of you are dating," the female voice inquired.

"Kennedy Hale, is that you?" Becky questioned into her mic, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"Uhhhhhh-no," the teen fumbled. Becky rolled her eyes.

Shane knew that voice from anywhere and decided to field the question herself. Kennedy had made a fatal error when she failed to specify exactly whom among them was dating and were they dating internally. As a result, Shane would playfully make sure she paid dearly for her oversight.

"This job requires a lot of our time and energy, which means we see a lot of each other," Shane diplomatically explained, practically hearing Kennedy's sigh of frustration from the stage. Kennedy immediately recognized her error.

"And that concludes the question and answer session. Thank you all for coming! We will see you tonight for the ribbon cutting and gala!" Becky said, concluding the panel.

"Kennedy, come see me, please," she added.

Shane laughed at Becky's exasperation, "You're the one who nominated her for the Executive Program, you know. I tried to warn her about getting a big head before I left…"

"It's such a shame-she's so bright, yet so terribly outspoken," Becky reflected, "And everyone here absolutely loves her."

"That should be a good thing…"

"It would be, if I didn't fear a heart attack every time she opened her mouth," Becky replied bluntly.

Shane laughed out loud, "You always pick the wild horse."

"Shane!" Kennedy called out, hugging Shane faster than she even had time to react to, nearly causing her to fall over in Kennedy's eagerness to reunite.

"Good to see you, too, Kennedy," Shane said, hugging her back.

"Kennedy…."

"Uh oh, angry headmistress," Kennedy whispered in Shane's ear as she pulled away.

"I heard that."

"Where is this nickname coming from?" Shane interjected.

"Long story-probably for another time," Becky explained.

Kennedy continued her line of inquiry, "Am I going to see you tonight at the gala?!"

"We'll be cutting the ribbon to the new exhibit, so of course!" Shane replied, looking around to find her friends otherwise occupied with audience members with more follow up questions for her colleagues.

"I'll introduce you to the rest of my friends tonight."

"Shane, seriously though-are you and Oliver…?" Kennedy pressed.

"Ok, problem child, back to your duties. Don't be late for your 2pm tour," Becky interrupted, frustrating Kennedy while also physically removing her from the stage.

"You know the truth don't you headmistress?" Kennedy accused.

"See you tonight," Becky mouthed, dragging the ornery teen behind her.

* * *

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Points to anyone who can properly identify this chapter's guest star from one of my previous fics in their review! See you again soon!


	2. Answers

_OMG moments ahead. You have been warned._

* * *

The Smithsonian National Postal Museum was as grand and overwhelming as Shane could have imagined. As they entered the gala, particularly the main floor, the scale of the lighting and decorations only accented the grandeur of the facility.

"Wow," Rita said in awe.

They descended the staircase to the Lower Level, making their way towards the special exhibition space. They navigated around a vintage train car and modern day postal truck and took in the high ceiling above. It was larger than life and something to behold. Postal enthusiasts and interns alike were dressed to the nines for the evening's festivities, including the Postables themselves.

As Shane surveyed her surroundings it didn't take her long to discern the chronology of the space and, in turn, where the Pony Express exhibit lived.

There was a certain anticipation she had about seeing it. She couldn't explain it, but it was as if some final piece of the puzzle that was Oliver and Holly's complex marriage might finally be put to rest if she could just see the space where Holly suddenly decided it was time to leave her marriage. She have never asked Oliver why he thought Holly chose to leave him at that particular spot or in that particular moment. She supposed the detective in her thought being in the space would allow her to fact gather and determine that final trigger on her own. Then again, who was she to know Holly's innermost workings and feeling? It didn't even matter now. She was long gone and their marriage now over.

But there was a lingering reality that she herself had become part of that moment as well. For all the pain, conflict and occasional emotional distance it caused she and Oliver to go through seemingly from the day they met, for the tears she had cried and the argument they had endured, she owed it to herself to make peace with this place.

"Are you alright?"

Shane's thoughts were interrupted by Oliver's earnest inquiry.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. I'm just taking everything in," She felt as awkward and disjointed as her response seemed, and she could tell Oliver wasn't buying it, but at the same time had not formulated an appropriate follow up question.

Rita returned from investigating one of the external exhibits that lined the room, "Norman, you have to come see this stamp collection. I am pretty sure you have some of the stamps!"

Norman's interest piqued, "Do you think they have the Hawaiian Missionary stamps? I have never seen those."

Rita laced her arm in Norman's and they headed to one of the far walls of the main gallery.

"I was thinking about getting something to drink," Oliver proposed, "Would you like something?"

"No, I'm good, thank you. I will just wait for you right here," she replied and smiled.

He seemed satisfied with her answer and made his way to where the drinks were being served. She watched Oliver disappear into the crowd of people, and recognized almost immediately that this might be her only chance to slip away. It would only be a second and she would be back before any of them even knew she was gone.

Shane directed her attention to the "Binding the Nation" gallery and began to traverse through the visual history of the Postal Service briskly in an attempt to minimize her absence from the gala. Much to her surprise, the galleries themselves lacked activity, and Shane quickly concluded there must be some standard etiquette regarding when they should be toured during events such as this one, which she was clearly violating. Nonetheless she pressed on to the Pony Express exhibit.

Much to her surprise, it wasn't very large. In fact, if she had walked ten steps further or too quickly, she would have walked right through it. At first glance, it seemed absolutely harmless. The romanticized adventure of dime novels and the realities of the hardship riders experienced through the Pony Express were the subject of the space. The short lifespan of the Pony Express also likely contributed to the brevity of the exhibit.

But it was the obvious opposition between the _romance_ and _reality_ of the Pony Express that, when pulled from its historical context, caused the analytical wheels to turn for Shane.

She put herself in Holly's shoes. It was something she had found difficult to do before, because doing so acknowledged that there was a side to her story. A side that, if fully embraced, or worse yet, understood, meant giving up on her own repressed dream of being with Oliver. It was childish, she knew, but not knowing Holly, and having been somehow divinely drawn into Holly and Oliver's story, Shane was forced to cope with her own devices, even if one of those devices was flawed logic.

If there was one thing Holly's return had taught Shane, it was that when Oliver was in love, not a single element of his being was held back. Everything he was, or ever would be, would go into the person on whom his heart was set. To love like he did required completeness in every way imaginable. For someone who lacked that capacity it could be overwhelming, and getting swept up in the romance without the proper consideration or reciprocation of that kind of love could prove damaging to both parties. _That_ was the reality with which someone seeking after Oliver's heart had to contend.

 _Holly was incomplete-she was scared._

As Shane came to this conclusion, the ghost that taunted her into the recessed halls of the museum suddenly evaporated. Yet as it did, it left behind a lingering question.

 _Are you capable of loving him like that, Shane?_

"Amazing how a seemingly innocuous space can leave such a deep impression."

Shane turned to find Oliver standing just a few steps behind her. He let out a deep sigh, almost of relief. She had not heard him arrive, and wondered how long he had been standing there. Shane didn't know what to say. Her desire to witness this place for herself had neither been a topic of conversation for she and Oliver, nor a desire she had ever expressed. She had absolutely nothing to say for herself.

"Nothing has changed," he commented, surveying the space himself.

Shane just watched Oliver, seeing him work through the memory honestly before her.

"I was standing right where you are now," he said, standing next to Shane, "And now that I think about it, I'm not sure how I didn't notice…"

 _…her leave._

Oliver let the unspoken words linger in the air. She could see him struggling not to drown in the memory.

She reached out next to her and touched his arm, "Oliver, I-"

Hearing Shane's apology coming, Oliver gently wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, kissing the side of her head. His affection comforted her.

"I knew you were coming here," he whispered into her hair, "In fact, I think I knew you were coming before even _you_ knew you were coming," he laughed halfheartedly.

Shane let out a soft sigh. Not much got past him.

"I will say, however, that even though I knew there was a good chance you had disappeared to this exhibit, I did not anticipate the deep urgency to find you that overcame me when you were, in fact, gone," he admitted.

"You panicked," Shane said aloud, pulling back a bit to see his face.

His eyes glanced down at her briefly before refocusing on the display, but he didn't confirm her no doubt accurate description. He seemed childlike and embarrassed about it. Shane suddenly realized that he still carried deep wounds, only seen in moments like these.

"It makes it that much more important to stand here now," Oliver affirmed. "You have an uncanny ability to place me in situations where I am forced to contend with the things I openly admit only to God."

"He would know whether you said anything or not."

"That He would," Oliver replied, surprised at her insight.

Shane removed herself from Oliver's hold and took a step towards the display. She began to absentmindedly touch the printed text description of one of the objects enclosed in glass.

She didn't know how to explain the feeling that had grown inside of her like a weed since she entered the space. It began with that single question:

 _Are you capable of loving him like that, Shane?_

Picking up her distress, Oliver continued the conversation.

"What drew you here?"

If he had the courage to humble himself to her, she owed him the same.

"Ever since I stepped off the plane I have felt like I had to come here to put something to rest. I didn't know what it was, but the feeling led me here. And while I put one ghost to rest by coming, another one cropped up in its place," Shane revealed.

"And what's that ghost telling you?" he pressed.

"You know how to love, Oliver. I'm afraid I don't know how to love enough," she whispered, unable to look at him for some reason.

The room was silent for a second. Shane immediately questioned her decision to come clean.

"It's strange, but the day I confronted you at the hospital about reading my letter just came to mind," Oliver began thoughtfully, "And all I can remember are the tears in your eyes as you speculated what was in it. I didn't see it then, but now nothing describes it but love, Shane-your love for the people around you. I will never forget the moment I let that letter slip into the mailbox. I was so cold and wet I could barely feel my toes anymore. I turned around, and there you were with an umbrella. I felt dejected, overwhelmed, but the sight of you there brought me comfort, even if I couldn't express it."

Everything he was saying was beautiful. Shane could feel the tears coming. Oliver placed his hand on the small of her back, and she turned to face him, ready to look him in the eye. He took her hands into his and began to speak again.

"I will admit that sometimes that love can be terribly frustrating, because it sometimes causes its object to breach parts of themselves, their lives, and their relationships, that perhaps they hadn't anticipated," he laughed lovingly. His observation was accurate, and she wouldn't deny her known tendency.

His next words took on a more serious tone.

"But you need to know that I count myself blessed with the best friend, and most beautiful partner-both inside and out-who loves more completely than she realizes. I am constantly amazed by you," he whispered emphatically.

Shane's heart became overwhelmed by a sense of peace and reassurance. As Oliver leaned in to gently kiss her, there was no doubt in her mind what capacity she had to love him. Their relationship had grown in way that she believed neither of them had anticipated, but somehow her connection with Oliver had ultimately prepared her to love him the way he needed loved.

"See, all you had to say was 'Yes, I'm dating that guy that came all the way to other side of the country to relieve my homesickness,'" a female, and distinctly youthful voice chastised.

So absorbed in the moment, Shane's heart jumped and she was surprised she wasn't six feet in the air. She turned to see Kennedy, surprisingly feminine, and rather beautiful, in a purple chiffon evening gown.

"Headmistress asked me to track you down, they are about to do the ribbon cutting," she finished.

Shane and Oliver looked at each other like two high school students caught kissing by the principal in a hallway and laughed a bit.

"I think we're ready," Oliver concluded, "Everything here is ancient history now anyway."

Shane looked up at Oliver and smiled, taking his hand. Kennedy came alongside the couple and grabbed Shane's other hand as they walked out into the main hall.

"Are you satisfied?" Shane asked the relentless teen, "Now you know."

"Very much so. By the way, you look amazing in that yellow gown, Shane" Kennedy complimented, "Don't you think so, Oliver?"

"Absolutely," he replied.

* * *

 _The end. And now that you've read the story, you can sound off on all your feels!_


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